just as I said you would do
God, he didn't want to leave, but now he had to. He had to. Whatever torture
his new master might choose to inflict on him would be nothing compared to the torture of staying here under such conditions.
To actually have realized his sweetest dreams only to have them taken away based on Anita's ever-fluctuating whims.
He could almost hate her for that. He was losing everything because of her. All because of her.
The shapeshifter leaned his head back against the wall, and exhaled a long, drawn-out
breath. It turned Asher's attention once more to the blood dripping from Narcissus' mouth. It sharply honed Asher's
hunger, setting his entire body ablaze with need. At first he fought it down....but the desire for satiation was suddenly
too strong and Asher realized it wasn't just blood he was hungry for.
Again I opened my mouth to protest, but Jean-Claude covered it with his in another sensuously
devouring kiss. I was almost certain there wasn't any taste of the chocolate lingering in my mouth, but he was still
kissing me like I had just eaten the whole box. It occurred to me that perhaps, just perhaps, he and Asher might be
up to something here.
behind closed doors
My eyes zeroed in on the movement of his hair. I knew what it felt like slipping
through my fingers and could confirm that its silkiness rivaled his luxurious shirts. The temptation to reach up and
touch it was there, but I didn't give into it. As Anita would say, bully for me.
It wasn't long before Cali felt tingling warmth spreading through her body
and knew it had little to do with the steamy water. Asher was kissing her with an increasing passion, forcing her head
back as far as it would go until there was no escaping. Not that Cali wanted to escape him. He was so incredibly
sexy; his kisses were effectively turning her insides to molten goo. And they hadn't even shed a stitch of clothing
undress me with your eyes
You weren’t doing anything in particular. You were standing there,
and then you moved. It just caught my eye. I looked up and the image of you filled my vision and suddenly all I could do was
drink you in. The way you turned and seemed to pose for me. I was enchanted. I noticed the neckline of your shirt was open
a little farther than usual, and I caught a small glimpse of what lie underneath. Then my mind was lost in imaginings of blatant
self-indulgence at your expense.
the vampire suicides: prologue - chapter nine
Damian leaned forward slightly. "It's called The Death Fantasy.
It's a psuedo-sexual andrenaline rush for some people, especially the Goths and the vampire junkies. They act out their
fantasy of being taken and killed by a vampire."
"Act out? You mean, like sexual-role playing?" I asked, admittedly
never having heard of such a thing.
"Everything is taken to the extreme," Jean-Claude put in. "Arrangements
are made beforehand. Sometimes money changes hands. In the end, the vampire is called upon to ambush his or her
prey, take them away to some seedy, dark place. Normally they have sex to simulate a rape, then usually, the vampire
takes their mind, marks them, feeds from them, and then releases them."
the vampire suicides: chapter 10 - epilogue
I whirled around to fully face Asher, to tell him to stay out of this, when
something suddenly occurred to me.
"You know why he doesn't want me to kill this vampire, don't you?"
Jean-Claude turned and looked at him. Asher's icy blue eyes flicked
to Jean-Claude, then back to me. He sighed and leaned back against the sofa cushions and stretched out his long legs.
"Yes," he admitted. "I am aware of his reasons just as I am aware that should he relay them to you, they would scarcely
make a difference in your decision making. He truly has so little power over you, that it is better for him to keep
his reasons to himself and let you imagine something much more significant."
the end of the night
“I could remedy that,” Asher whispered, his
pale eyes gleaming. Slowly he bent and touched his lips to Jean-Claude’s, a quick, chaste kiss. “So very easily.”
He helped Jean-Claude out of his pants and laid him back on the bed, stretching out beside him. “I would take you in
my arms and never let you go. I would enchant you with my touch, sear you with my passion, and devour you with my kiss.”
He reached out and gathered his friend into his embrace.
There was a sudden surge of metaphysical power between them and for a moment,
Asher believed he had perhaps, gone too far. After all, he was assaulting not only the Master Vampire of the City, now his
master, a powerful sourdre de sang, but the man he loved--all to prove a point. There had been whispers within this Kiss as
well as others, that one day, Asher’s temper would be his undoing. Maybe this foolishness tonight would fulfill that
particular bit of prophecy. His long, sad tale of existence would merely become a legend to warn others of the real perils
of unrequited love. The only thing was, his love was not unrequited and that was what he yearned to prove.
After a few moments, Jean-Claude realized he couldn’t even begin to
fathom why or how this strange woman came to be lying next to him in bed. He sat up abruptly, his slippery silk sheet pooling
around his loins making him aware of his own nudity. He opened his mouth to speak, tucking the glossy fabric tightly around
his hips, but the woman smiled brightly and spoke first.
“Hello Master,” she said in a sultry, whiskey voice.
God, he was beautiful, Phillip thought, his eyes roving the vampire’s
exquisite face and form. Jean-Claude’s eyes were orbs of raw seduction--so dark a blue they almost looked black. Not
a foreboding kind of black, but a beckoning one. It was more the kind of darkness you could hide in and feel safe and secure
in. Phillip wanted that and all the promises of pleasure Jean-Claude’s eyes possessed.
Micah knew it was Jean-Claude who’d sparked Asher’s hostility
towards him in the first place. He could still recall the gleam of jealousy in Asher’s eyes as he watched his former
lover gather Micah’s naked body into his arms to feed from him. Asher’s ensuing outrage had taxed Jean-Claude’s
patience to the limits resulting in that chillingly inhuman hiss of warning. Humiliated, Asher had fled the room, but not
before shooting Micah a look so full of hatred, the mere thought of it still gripped the pit of the wereleopard’s stomach.
She was a torturer after all and a damned good one too. Her deep-rooted hatred for her fellow vampires--the men in particular--made
that occupation perfect for someone like her and one she took exquisite delight in performing. It was also one she could do
without any moral baggage or ethical difficulty.
Clearly this guy was “that type”: all noveau grunge, piercings, and purposefully mussed hair. Not a typical Midwestern
poser though. Clad in a worn black wife beater and camouflage cargos, he came across looking more like a California beach
bum with that deep summer tan of his and Hollywood heart-throb looks. His punkishness surprisingly didn’t mar those
looks, Shelley decided as her eyes roved the curve of his upper lip.
st. louis' own jim morrison
Anita slumped against the wereleopard and wiped angrily at her face. “What
are you talking about? I punish myself every day of the year, Nathaniel. Not just today.” She took a deep
breath and tried to calm down. She hated feeling like this and tried to take
Nathaniel’s words to heart. Was it going to get any easier? Was next year’s birthday going to be better? “Look,
I’m sorry. I promised myself I wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity
today. God, I’m a mess.” Resolutely,
Anita stepped away from Nathaniel and tried to smile. “Let me go splash
some cold water on my face and then we can go. It’s getting late. I know they’re all waiting to see me.”